


They Say It Gets Better

by asexualjuliet



Series: But the Wound’s Still Open [1]
Category: Everwood
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e23 Home, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Let Bright Abbott cry and grieve he needs it just as much as Amy!, T for swearing, Vomiting, thinkin bout Bright Abbott today lads, vague mention of a panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24244297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualjuliet/pseuds/asexualjuliet
Summary: “God, she’s gonna hate me,” says Bright, giving in to another round of tears.If Ephram is confused by this statement he doesn’t show it.“She won’t, man,” Ephram says, but he doesn’t get it.Bright’s the one who crashed the car. Bright’s the one who put Colin in a fucking coma. Bright’s the one who killed him.It’s Bright’s fault that Colin’s fucking dead, and Amy’s going to hate him forever and he honestly can’t blame herOr, the aftermath of the season one finale.
Relationships: Bright Abbott & Ephram Brown
Series: But the Wound’s Still Open [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867159
Comments: 5
Kudos: 2





	They Say It Gets Better

**Author's Note:**

> Is anyone reading/writing Everwood fic anymore? Whatever.
> 
> It is loving Bright Abbott hours and I’m here to give him the world. He’s so stupid and I love him so fucking much and I really wish the show would focus more on his grief than Amy’s (maybe they do later but I’m only on 2x04) so I wrote this.
> 
> Takes place right after the Harts and the Abbotts find out Colin is dead.
> 
> Rated T for excessive use of the word fuck, at one point I had to take a break from writing this because it stopped looking like a word lmao.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

“I’m sorry,” Doctor Brown says, and Bright knows he has to get out of there. 

“I’ll be in the car,” he says in the split second before Amy bursts into tears, and he fucking books it outside. 

He doesn’t make it as far as the car, though, collapsing on the nearest bench before the dam behind his eyes breaks and he starts crying harder than he has since last summer. 

_“Fuck,”_ he manages through the tears, because his best friend is dead and it’s _his fault his fault all his fault._

 _“Fuck!”_ he says again, because there’s no one here to stop him, and a tiny part of him is hoping it’ll make him feel better. 

(It doesn’t).

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck,”_ Bright says, and he’s choking on his tears, and he can’t fucking _breathe,_ and—

“Bright?” a voice asks, and it's pretty much the last voice Bright wants to be hearing right now, which checks out, because this is definitely the shittiest day of his life. 

Bright covers his face with his hands, trying desperately to hide his tears, to hold on to one last shred of dignity that he’s pretty sure was lost when Ephram fucking Brown saw him losing his shit on a park bench. 

“Go away,” he says, trying to give the words some bite, some semblance of dignity, but ultimately failing when Ephram sits down beside him. 

“Seriously, Brown,” Bright says, keeping a careful hold on the words so that he doesn’t burst into tears. “Leave me alone.”

“No.”

Bright looks up, hoping his face isn’t as blotchy and tear-stained as it feels. “Ephram, _please,”_ he begs, his teary eyes meeting Ephram’s steady blue ones. Ephram says nothing.

 _“Shit,”_ cries Bright, because he can’t hold the tears back any longer, and they come with a gut-wrenching sob as he pulls up his legs and buries his face in his knees, hoping upon hope that Ephram will just go _away._

“You’re not supposed to leave someone alone if they’re showing signs of severe emotional distress,” says Ephram, like the fucking geek he is. “I could—I could get your dad?” he suggests, but _fuck,_ that’s even worse. 

Bright shakes his head, not looking up. “He’s dealing with—he’s dealing with Amy,” he says into his knees. “You know how she gets, this is gonna fucking destroy her.”

Ephram’s definitely thinking the same thing as he is in this instant, which is that this currently seems to be fucking destroying _Bright._

 _“God,_ she’s gonna _hate_ me,” says Bright, giving in to another round of tears. 

If Ephram is confused by this statement he doesn’t show it. 

“She won’t, man,” Ephram says, but he doesn’t _get it._

 _Bright’s_ the one who crashed the car. _Bright’s_ the one who put Colin in a fucking coma. _Bright’s_ the one who killed him. 

It’s Bright’s fault that Colin’s fucking _dead,_ and Amy’s going to hate him forever and he honestly can’t blame her. 

There’s a sick feeling in his stomach that only grows with the realization that _everyone he loves is going to hate him_ , and Ephram is just _looking_ at him as if he’s a mildly interesting television program instead of a real, live person who already _asked_ Ephram to go away. Bright can’t breathe, and he can’t _fucking_ handle this, and he’s going to be sick. 

He leans away from Ephram to do it, heaves up his breakfast onto the grass next to the bench with such force that new tears form in his eyes, running down his face and into his mouth, the salty taste doing nothing to wash away the taste of puke. 

“Oh, shit!” he hears Ephram say as he retches again, and _God,_ if it wasn’t embarrassing enough that he was crying, now he’s cried so hard that he’s made himself sick, with Ephram Brown of all people beside him. 

But a hesitant hand finds its way to Bright’s shoulder, and it feels kind of nice, so he lets it be. 

“Do you want me to get your dad?” Ephram asks, in a voice softer than Bright’s ever heard him use before. 

Bright doesn’t dare speak until the nausea passes. He just shakes his head, leaning on the side of the bench with silent tears rolling down his face. 

“You okay, man?” Ephram asks after a while. “Shit, I mean, I know you’re not okay, but—”

“I’m fine,” says Bright, rubbing his face and sitting up again. “Sorry—sorry you had to see that.”

Ephram shrugs. “Same kinda thing happened to me when my mom died. I totally freaked out, probably even worse than you just did. Couldn’t breathe, thought I was dying, cried so hard I puked… Kinda wish someone was there to help me out, but…”

He trails off. Bright understands anyway. 

“How did—” he starts. “How did you—”

Ephram doesn’t seem annoyed like Amy sometimes does when he takes too long to get the words out. He just sits there, with patient blue eyes, and Bright feels like he has all the time in the world to come up with the words. 

“How did you stop hurting?” he asks. It sounds stupid and childish, even to Bright, and he’s not exactly Einstein, but Ephram looks at him like it makes all the sense in the world. 

“I didn’t,” Ephram says, and Bright’s heart falls. 

“I know that’s not what you wanna hear, but you’re never gonna—you’re never gonna stop missing him,” Ephram says. “At first, it’ll be hell, and it’ll get better, you’ll stop thinking about him every minute of the day, but it’ll still hurt when you do.”

“Oh,” says Bright, for a lack of better words. 

Ephram shrugs again. “It sucks,” he says, “But it’ll get better.”

Bright nods. 

“Bright!” calls Harold, heading towards the park bench while Rose walks towards the car, Amy wrapped in her arms. “We’re going to head home now before traffic gets too heavy.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there, give me a second,” Bright calls back. 

He turns to Ephram. “Th—Thanks, dude,” he says. 

Ephram just nods. Bright gets up and starts to walk away.

“It’ll get better.”

Bright turns around. 

“Everything people are gonna say to you about this is gonna suck,” Ephram tells him. “All the sorries and _how are you doing_ s and _you’re so strong_ s. It’s all gonna sound like bullshit.”

Bright nods. 

“And I know anything I say is gonna sound like bullshit, too, but I hope you feel better soon, man,” says Ephram. 

Bright gives a half smile. “Thanks,” he says again, and turns around to make his way to the car. 

Ephram’s left alone on the bench, nothing to do but watch the Abbotts drive away and wait. 

He’s got a sneaking suspicion that summer ‘03 is going to _suck._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> All mistakes are my own, please let me know if you see any!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are greatly appreciated!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [There is a feeling that you should just go home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533113) by [broadway_hufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadway_hufflepuff/pseuds/broadway_hufflepuff)




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